Precious Silk
by LNIYE
Summary: "Ever since the day I met him, I have desired Yao. This winter, I will make him mine." This story is about Ivan's boundless desire for a man who will resist him till the end of time. Or will he? (RoChu. Sensitive content ahead.)
1. The Hunt

**Precious Silk**

So... this is my second Hetalia fic. Hopefully, people will enjoy it. I've been wanting to write this sort of story for a while, and now the occasion has shown itself. Enjoy this very short first chapter!

_Chapter One : The Hunt_

Ever since my childhood, I have been fascinated by this big country that lays south of Siberia. The people of this country call it Zhongguo, or 溺iddle States I like to call it Kitaii. When I was a very small child, I used to take strolls all the way to the border, and I would gaze out at this land filled with beautiful legends and stories. Those tales spoke of a boy that had been born from the egg of a phoenix or from a dragon, while other's said he had been born from the Yangtze. The Tatars told me tales about how grand and graceful the country was, and I grew up with the desire to meet the one they called Wang Yao.

Years passed, and I eventually had the chance to meet the man that I dreamt of. He came one day with his boss, and even if it was nothing more a formality, I knew this encounter would change my life forever. It turned out that this man of legend was a very small, feminine looking man. When I gazed upon his soft, beautiful face, I couldn't help but notice those beautiful, shining golden eyes, lovely and delicious looking lips, as well as cheeks red in embarrassment. As my gaze went down on his body, I noticed a strong yet thin chest, long and delicate fingers, as well as cute little feet. He was not exactly how I had imagined him. I thought that such a large country would be a man who looked much stronger, but no. Yao was very small and looked rather frail.

"Ni hao" the Asian had spoken to me. "I am Wang Yao, also known as Zhongguo, or China, as you may know me."

"Priatno poznakomitsya. I'm Rossiya, but you can call me Ivan Braginskii."

Yao even had a sort of feminine voice which was pleasing to the ear. When I held out my hand to shake his, I was almost scared of breaking the small hand that found its way into mine. When he squeezed it gently, I felt the warmth of a country that had warm winters to the south. And this warmth found its way to the depths of my heart and stomach. I was still shaking hands with him when it dawned on me: one day... This man would be mine.

However, Yao is extremely distrusting by nature, perhaps to a fault. He has been betrayed by most of his family, and I must say even my country sort of left him behind. That being said, I always felt a special sort of affection for him. Whenever I met with the Chinese male, I felt like running my fingers down his hair, I wanted to hold him close, I wanted to kiss him, and wanted his body to be naked under mine, I desired an exchange of heat and bodily fluids with him. And I often told him, always with the same sort of result.

"Yao... will you please be mine?" "Yao, I have loved you since the day I laid eyes on you... Will you agree to be one with me?" "Yao, before this wold comes to an end and before we both die... Will you lay my soul to rest and agree to become my lover?"

"No." "Never." "Stop saying such embarrassing things" he always replied with fiery cheeks, and never managed to look at me.

Those harsh words always made me sad, but I never insisted. Even if I desperately wanted him, I could respect Yao's desires. I knew that one day, he would accept me. Until the day he rejected me by saying those words: "Ivan, I will never love you. I would not become your lover even if the fate of the world depended on our union."

Nowadays, Yao and I still live close to each other. His borders still touch mine, and we have some sort of good relationship... He and I were both part of the mighty Allied forces, after all. Despite this, I want much more from him. The years I spent living close to him and observing him became a painful gap in my mind, a hole that I want to fill anyway I can. This hole, of course, is filled with Yao's absence. To stop this pain, what I had to do was simple: I had to have Yao, all to myself.

It was a cold winter evening, and yet for Russian standards, it was actually quite warm. As always, the streets of Beijing were filled with people. There were couples walking by, teenagers hanging out, people heading home, as well as an explosion of city lights. I was there, on the lookout for a familiar figure. It took a moment, but I eventually saw him. I was in a dark alley, he was walking on a busy street. Even if I was quite easy to spot, I came out of my hideout and did my best to follow him, discreetly. Yao was easy to recognize, thanks to his ponytail and big golden eyes. Also, he wore traditional clothes on a regular basis. Oh, he looked so beautiful in this red, silky coat., as well as those black pants and little shoes. He also wore a black scarf, which looked more beautiful than warm. He was carrying grocery bags. Yao lived in an old looking house, on the outskirts of Beijing. Of course, I followed him all the way there, managing to stay unnoticed. It was easy, after all. I knew where Yao lived, I just had to make sure that this is where he was headed. As he walked in my field of vision, I took a rag and covered it with chloroform, like I knew people did in movies and books when they wanted to take a person without a struggle. When the rag was doused in the peculiar chemical, I rushed towards the unsuspecting Chinese. Before I shoved the fabric over his nose and mouth, he had the time to turn around and look at me. During a brief moment, there was a light of recognition in the depths of this soft, golden gaze. But then, when he realized what was going on, he tried to scream. I was so nervous, I mustered a large amount of strength to hold him tight and to put the rag over his mouth and nose. My heart was racing, I was excited about what I was doing. Feeling Yao's hopeless struggle and hearing his muffled cries made me feel warm inside. The pain of his nails digging inside the skin of my arm seemed to find its way to my stomach, making it warm with a fuzzy, weird feeling.

"Shh, shh... Yao..."

I'm not sure what knocked him out first: the pain, the chemical, the lack of air, or a mix of all those factors? Then again, in the end, it didn't matter. The effect was the same. Yao had been knocked up, and he was free for the taking. His body went limp, but still I kept the rag on his face. I sat on the ground, under his weight, keeping his head to my chest. I knew that Yao was smart and could be devious, and so I needed to make sure. But how? I remained like this for a moment, still pressing the rag firmly against Yao's face. I loosened my grip a little, just to allow him to breathe a little. And then, I did something that I had wanted to do forever. With my trembling free hand, I reached under his coat and his shirt, until I felt on of his nipples. I felt my cheeks heat up, as I played with this warm bit of skin. I traced little circles around it with the tip of my finger, and when it was hardened sufficiently, I just teased the tip of it. He didn't react at all. I finally pulled the rag away, slowly, gazing down at those calm features. It looked like he was sleeping. I ended up getting up, and I put him over my shoulder, now heading towards my home.

My home in Russia was the best of prisons. It was a huge, dark house on the outskirts of Sankt-Peterburg. There was a lot of snow all around it, and so it would be hard for Yao to try and leave. The winter was harsh, and getting lost was easy. My home used to be beautiful. A while ago, it was kept clean by the people that lived with me. Every other year, someone would pain the walls and make sure that the murals still looked fine. But now, the wallpaper and paint were peeling from the walls, the dust was accumulating around and some windows were broken. It was a bit cold inside because of it. Carefully, I put Yao down on a comfortable chair. I took away his coat, which I threw down in the basement. It was not like he would need it. I then tied his wrists, and I made sure to tie the rope to the chair to keep him there. And now, I wanted him to wake up.

I was sitting on a chair, in front of Yao, leisurely observing those delicate features. My mind was wandering. I kept thinking about what I could do to him now that he was there, at my mercy. I wanted to be one with him, and even more. My arms wanted to hold him, my lips desired his, my hands wanted to explore this soft skin, my tongue was longing for the sweet taste of his seed, my ears desired the sound of his sweet moans, and my mind wanted the Asian to give himself completely to me.

And I would find a way to make it more than a fantasy.


	2. The Prey

**Precious Silk**

_Chapter two : The Prey_

When Yao finally woke from his slumber, his blurry eyes moved here and there. He groaned softly, under the pain of a horrible headache. He moved his head sluggishly and threw it back, looking at a dark sky. Or was it the ceiling? He didn't know. He tried to bring a hand to his face, wanting to rub his eyes, but his hand never reached his face. He even felt a slight resistance, but maybe it was only gravity. He groaned some more and waited, until he felt his head being forcefully moved down. There were fingers holding his jaw, and even with his blurry vision, he realized that there was a man there. He shut his eyes tight, hoping that this vision would disappear, that he would see the blue sky above his head and not those dark, wooden shades. But even this touch on his skin didn't disappear. And so he opened his eyes once more. His eyes were less blurry, and so he was able to recognize this pale complexion and those mysterious purple eyes. Suddenly, he remembered all that had happened. His eyes widened a little, as he remembered the Russian assaulting him and putting a rag soaked in chloroform against his mouth and nose. Suddenly, his eyes were less blurry, as they looked from those eyes to this sweet, indulgent smile. His voice came out weak and raspy. "I-Ivan...?"

Hearing the sweet Asian mention his name made Ivan smile happily. He gently stroked his cheek with his thumb, and this skin felt so smooth under his fingers. "Hello, Yao."

The Chinese swallowed hard and struggled to free himself from the ropes that bound him to the chair. He could barely move, and the more he struggled, the more he felt pain his his limbs. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked through clenched teeth. He pulled his head away from Ivan's grasp, glaring at him now. He looked around himself and noticed a window. And all he could see through it was a white landscape. Well, he knew it was snow, but it was dark, very dark. He knew this was Russia. Of course it was. He looked at it for barely a second. Already, this hand was grabbing his jaw again, forcing Yao's eyes to look in those deep, purple pools. "As you may know, the Russian winter is cold and lonely... I just wanted you to share some of your warmth with me."

Yao's eyes were filled with distrust. He pulled his head again and shifted his weight out of discomfort. He knew that while Ivan was looking, there was no way he could escape this house. But then again, how was he going to flee? He was bound tightly to this chair, his wrists were bound and tied to this chair, there was nothing much he could do. Even his ankles were bound together. It was as if the Russian had planned all this... It sure was not a reassuring thought. "You want me to share my warmth with you? I'll punch you in the face, I promise the wound will feel warm."

Ivan giggled at the threat. It was always amusing to have a tiny Chinese man pretend like he had any power over the Russian, who was physically much stronger than him. "Oh Yao. You know what I mean by warmth." The Asian frowned and shook his head. "No I don't know. Now untie me before I-"

He went quiet. He went as silent as a tomb. Without any warning, Ivan's hand has entered his shirt. And soon enough, those fingers were wandering his skin, counting his ribs, skimming his sides, caressing his stomach and teasing his nipples. Yao was speechless, at least for a few moments. So this is what he meant by warmth. He quickly reacted and squirmed in the other man's hold. "No, no, stop! Don't touch me-" He was silenced by Ivan's lips against his own. He felt the Russian get more passionate already. His breathing was louder, and those hands were a bit more frenetic already. Yao kept his jaw clenched and pulled his head away, disgusted. "You smell like vodka! You're disgusting!" The Russian groaned softly and tried claiming those soft lips again, but Yao kept moving his head away, managing to protect himself from a violation of his boundaries. That is, until Ivan grew tired of this: he gripped Yao's hair tightly and yanked it back, forcing him to expose his neck and stay still. Yao kept himself from screaming in pain, as the Russian kissed him on the lips, sloppily. The saliva that the Asian could feel against his lips and flowing on his cheeks was sickening. But when he felt this tongue shove itself down his mouth all the way to his throat, he felt himself gag, before he bit this tongue, this disgusting, wet muscle that had dared venture his territory. Ivan jumped and whimpered from the sudden pain, his tongue recoiling inside his mouth and his hands letting go of this soft, silky black hair. Yao glared at him, defiantly.

Ivan stood still for a moment, watching the smaller man with a surprised and pained expression. But soon he glared back. "Rossiya does not want children who can't play nice..." Yao opened wide eyes, but he couldn't protest as Ivan gripped his shirt and harshly tore it open. The Chinese gasped, both in surprise and in fear, and struggled even more. Ivan smiled again, a rather cruel smile, as he licked this soft skin. Yao shivered and tried to pull away, but of course it didn't work. Ivan latched on one of the Asian's nipples and licked it, a little harshly. He sucked on it, until it was erect and changed colour. Yao shivered and, despite the fact that he didn't want to like it, it still aroused him a little. This was true torture. Ivan moved to the other nipple and licked it but, unlike the other, he bit it. Yao jumped and yelled in pain. "Ah! Stop it, it hurts!" Ivan didn't comply and merely bit it more, twisting it between his teeth. He then let go, looking at his own bite marks on the smaller man's chest. "I will make sure that Yao wants me. Soon, you will be begging for more."

Yao scoffed, despite the pain. "I don't think this will ever happen." Ivan frowned a little. "We will see about this, Yao. Don't underestimate the man who loves you." He then touched Yao's member through his pants. Yao gasped and tried to move away, but there wasn't much room for him in his seat. Ivan kept caressing the Chinese male's manhood. Soon, his hand found its way in those pants. Yao gasped and this time, a soft whimper escaped his mouth. "Please, don't..." Ivan pulled the member out and looked at it. It wasn't very big, but it was in a nice, albeit small erection. He kept looking at it with a smile. "See, Yao? I think you are liking this."

Ivan then pulled out his own erection. When Yao turned his head away, Ivan growled and grabbed his hair, forcing him to look at it. "You see this? You see my dick? Soon, you will be choking on it and you will like it. Soon, it will be inside your little butt and you will scream for more. You'll only be fed on my seed, so you better get used to it." He was rather angry, and so he didn't really think what he was saying. Yao stared at this erection with wide eyes, he swallowed hard and then looked up in Ivan's eyes. This couldn't be true. He could not be serious. But then, Ivan used his free hand and started to touch himself. The Asian looked at it for a minute, before he shut his eyes tight. Ivan's hand gripping his hair was painful, and it looked like every stroke of the member made Ivan's grip get tighter. It felt like he was about to tear Yao's hair off. Yao's eyes were shut, but he could still hear Ivan's obscene moans of pleasure, and he could feel the tip of it poke his face from time to time. It was desperately sickening. The moans were louder and louder, and Yao soon thought that he was about to release. "At least, get this thing away from my fa-" He couldn't finish his sentence. He felt the warm, sticky milk shoot in his face, in his hair, even in his mouth. Ivan sighed in pleasure and finally let go of Yao's hair. He then scooped his seed away from Yao's face, before he stuck his fingers inside Yao's mouth. "You swallow this for me, alright?" Before the Chinese could protest, he put a hand on those lips and kept the mouth shut. Yao felt humiliated. He opened one eye and glared at the Russian, feeling sick to his stomach, his whole body shaking. How could this be happening? He finally swallowed the seed. He wasn't going to cry. No, he wasn't going to let Ivan see his tears. "Good boy," Ivan said, before he sat in a nearby couch, needing to rest after unloading his seed on another male.

Yao finally gave up. He really had to leave this house. Ivan got up, kissed his cheek and whispered loving words in his ear, before he finally left the room.

"Ya tebya lyublyu."

Those were the words that made Yao's eyes fill with tears. If he loved him so, why had he done this? Why had he covered Yao in his seed? Why was he humiliating the Asian?

Why did it hurt so much?


End file.
